


Finesse

by SOMNlARl



Series: Tumblr Prompts [19]
Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Secret Admirer, Secret Crush, These two nerds just need to talk it out seriously, sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-06
Updated: 2015-10-06
Packaged: 2018-04-25 01:54:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4942141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SOMNlARl/pseuds/SOMNlARl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian loves to watch Cullen training in the courtyard.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finesse

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a tumblr prompt from fuck-arl-eamon: How about Dorian opening the window of the library and watching Cullen train down in the yard. Cullen finds out and starts training shirtless.

The first time he glances out the window it’s simply out of boredom. The volume of early Theodosian history he’s flipping through is impossibly dry and full of inaccuracies he’ll take pleasure in ranting about later. It’s a beautiful day, even approaching what he might call pleasant for Skyhold and Dorian sighs as he puts the book down, marking his place neatly with a scrap of torn parchment. He throws open the window in the alcove he’s claimed as his, closing his eyes in delight as the warmth of the mid-day sun streams in. With the warmth comes the sound of swords clashing, voices shouting but one very familiar voice rising above the rest. 

He knows, even without looking, that it’s the Commander’s. There’s a softness to it, even as he yells out commands to his men, intertwined with the faint Ferelden accent which the man normally manages to smooth from his words. 

 _Maker_ but he loves that voice. A shame the man isn’t more of a talker although each chess game they play teases more and more conversation from him. Dorian thinks he could listen to Cullen talk all day; about nothing, about everything, even just nonsense syllables would be enough. 

Not wanting to turn back to the drudgery of the tome waiting for him quite yet he chances a glance out the window only to find that he’s looking straight down onto the training grounds and Cullen is in the ring with one of his lieutenants. Dorian’s never bothered paying much attention to any of the warriors’ fighting techniques.  _Savage and predictable, no finesse at all_  he’d sniffed imperiously when Bull had boasted about his kills, looking for compliments.  _Running at enemies and bashing them with a sharp piece of metal, what skill does that take?_

As he watches Cullen he thinks perhaps his earlier judgment had been a bit hasty. The blond’s light on his feet, dodging attacks and moving in again with all the precise, delicate skill of a dancer. His shield flashes silver as the sunlight catches it and rather than the ungainly bit of metal Blackwall hides behind it seems to move as part of him, as though it were nothing but an extension of his arm and perfectly controlled. The arc of his sword as he thrusts and parries is mesmerizing and Dorian thinks he could stand here and watch the man all afternoon. He’s always found Cullen attractive, it’s difficult enough to focus on the chess board during their games rather than lose himself in the man’s dark-honey eyes, but watching him fight, seeing his incredible physical power spreads a warmth through him that he craves like nothing else. 

The next few days pass the same way. When the Commander is out in the yard and in between torturous chapters of his dreadful book Dorian leans up against the window and watches. Sometimes the man runs drills, sometimes he trains on his own with one of the training dummies until the stuffing’s fallen out of its confines and littering the ground. 

 

* * *

 

Cullen’s just finished his training session for the day and is moving the dummy back towards its spot against the wall, ready to retreat back to his office to clean up before catching up on reports. He nods to Leliana as he passes her crossing the courtyard. 

He’s a few feet away when she laughs. “You have an admirer, Commander.”

He turns and looks around the courtyard but sees no one out of the ordinary, the same scouts rushing back and forth, runners, a few refugees. No one who seems to be paying the least bit of attention to him. “Come again?”

She quirks her head up and to the side, motioning up towards one of the large towers. “For over a week now, you haven’t noticed? You’d make a terrible spy.”

Confused, he follows the line of her face up the tower, squinting through the harsh afternoon sun. Finally his gaze lights on a small, open window with a face framed within it.  _Dorian_. 

He can feel his cheeks burning, his breath stuttering in his throat. Dorian. Watching him? It doesn’t make sense. He’s been attracted to the mage for months now, who wouldn’t be? But he can barely make it through a conversation with the mage without blushing and stumbling over his words. And Dorian flirts with everyone, the knowing looks and quips couldn’t possibly be for him? Although Maker knows that deep inside he couldn't help but hope. 

Their eyes meet and Dorian starts, backing away out of view. Disappointed, Cullen’s about to turn to leave when the mage appears back at the window, a smile spreading across his lips. He raises a hand to wave and Cullen nods back, grinning, heart pounding high and quick in his chest. 

Well, Cullen thinks as he climbs the stairs back to his quarters. If Dorian really likes watching him so much perhaps tomorrow he’ll just have to take his solo training session in just his leathers and boots. That will  _really_  give him something to look at. 


End file.
